


Forest of Tales

by LadyPrince



Category: Original Work
Genre: Fantasy, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-21
Updated: 2019-03-21
Packaged: 2019-11-26 16:55:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,640
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18183269
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyPrince/pseuds/LadyPrince
Summary: Zhion has a town that she must go to, and the quickest way to get to the town to offer her help and services to the one who has contacted her is to go through the forest of tales. Yet there are stories surrounding that forest, stories unsettling that she hopes are only results of the hallucinations from the mind's of starved and dehydrated travelers, and nothing to truly worry herself over.





	Forest of Tales

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally written for a competition for my university that I ended up not submitting because of my self-esteem issues. Because this was for something far, far ago last year, I do not have to worry about anyone recognizing this given that I showed no one this.

The air reeks of ash, a disgusting stench that makes Zhion cover her mouth and cough up smoke and dust onto his palms. Her time here has not been kind to her. Her body aches, her bones feel chilled and she feels as though they tremble within his body itself. They feel like nothing more than rattling bones in a sack of meat, and it is only one arm that is more of metal and rattling mistakes than they are anything else.

Light grows dimmer and dimmer the more she wanders deeper into the spirit-drenched forest; not many adventurers dare venture into here. A story hits her; a folktale, really one that has not rung true for years and still it raises the hairs on the back of her neck. Those who look behind themselves, she remembers, will be dragged away by death’s many hands down into hell.

It has been untrue for years. Many have come out, traumatised for sure, and they have spoken of how they have looked behind them and have seen nary a glance of hands. Death does not greet them that day.

But something else does. A beast with blood-stained teeth and pale, snow white skin. Red marks adorn said creature, the tattoos akin to the old rituals of bringing in demons to exact revenge. Now, she just hopes that all those stories are nothing more than mere hallucinations in the mind’s eye of starved and dehydrated travellers.

Ash finds its way deep into her lungs once more and she hacks up smog onto her palms.

  
  


The journey is long. There have been tales told of the forest that spans on, an endless jungle of uncertainty. Almost a maze; _“if you pay attention to the right spirits, my friend,”_ the monk remembers Maghdi’s sweet voice saying, _“then you will navigate through the forest as though it is the back of your hand.”_

But as she wanders on yonder through the mountainous trees, she cannot hold back the niggling doubt. They dwarf her in size and remind her of what an ant she is in comparison to the years and years these trees have had to grow. Her robes shield her from the cold and still, a chill permeates through her that she cannot stop. Zhion rubs her hands together, curling them over one another, and she ends up coughing smoke all over her fingers again.

She has run out of clean rags to wipe off all of the painful reminders of how the ashy air is affecting her. She continues along on her way, the forest turning more and more into a maze the deeper she treks on. The branches dip down low now, caressing her hair while they scratch at her cheeks. Her eyes dart around nervously, hoping to find anything at all that will lead her back onto the right path.

Desperation grows like an unwanted root in the pit of her belly; soon, she feels, her body will burst with the overwhelming nature of it all.

Exhaustion grows in her chest. Unease spreads from her shoulders to her fingertips.

“Hail, traveler,” a voice calls out to her then, “what seems to have brought you here?” she stiffens up, her back ramrod straight and no longer a trembling hunch, and Zhion looks over her shoulder to catch sight of a warrior as beautiful as the stars themselves. Her hair, as black as midnight glow, brushes across her shoulders as she approaches Zhion with confident steps.

There is mirth in her eyes, which are a brown deeper than the bark of the oldest tree, and the warrior stops behind Zhion and waits as she turns to face her. “You are monk, I see.” the warrior says and Zhion is left standing there, rigid while she looks over her shoulder still, waiting for her silken voice to continue on speaking. “What is it you wish from these woods, monk?

“Do you not know of the stories that circle here? Of the spirits and demons that lurk on in? Deep they rest here, waiting for unsuspecting travelers such as you. What have you here, monk? Certainly not business, I take; you are dressed not for formalities.”

Zhion flattens her mouth and raises her chin up high as the warrior slights her. “Do not make assumptions of me, warrior.” The monk says, her voice cracking at first before her bravery finally returns, the hypnotic spell that the warrior’s charms has put on her abated. “I travel, because I must. Through these forests, I must meet with someone who is in dire need of I.

“I am of the following of Lady Lorn. we are those who believe, wholly, in altruism in her name. We will travel near and far, wherever the paths must take us, so that we will be able to help those who require our aid, warrior.”

Before her, the warrior’s lips curl upwards into a toothy grin. “What of you, warrior?” Zhion asks. “What business have you here? Why is it that I am made company of you, in this lonely forest?”

“The forest of tales.” the warrior says mirthfully. “I live here,” she answers and Zhion cannot hold back her surprise, “I am as old as the forest itself, you can say. I arrive when I see wanders such as yourself in these trees. Many do not bother to come in this deep before they flee.”

Bashfully, Zhion looks down. “Forgive me my rudeness.” she says. She looks back up to meet the warrior’s amused gaze. “Warrior, what may your name be? I am Zhion, a monk of the town of Eldin.”

“I am Jhenhwan.” the warrior introduces herself proudly. “I’ve no recollection of where I have come from, monk! But worry not, for here is a place I have memorised far better than you ever shall, monk.

“Would you allow me to lead the way? Where is it that you must go to, monk?” Jhenhwan asks.

Zhion shakes her head. “Shizhan is where I need to go.”

A smile is given to her as a response, as well as, “and Shizhan is where I shall take you, monk.”

With the warrior leading the way the forest looks almost navigable with each confident stride that Jhenhwan takes. Her steps echo that of a leader, marching her army through war on the battlefield, and Zhion feels brief respite from the anxious feelings that have been boiling up inside of her belly. “The forests are endless,” Jhenhwan tells her, “it will take us quite some time to be able to make it through, here.”

Zhion nods. She wraps her arms around herself and hunches over once more, goosebumps appearing along her skin underneath her robes and Zhion does not even wish to get an inkling as to why it is that she is so cold within the warm forest. Something deep lurks between the dirt of this place; magic beyond her comprehension and knowledge that her flimsy mind cannot handle.

Jhenhwan’s confidence does not waver even as the darkness of the forest reaches to that of a deep, dark abyss. “Do you not feel nervous, living here?” Zhion asks after a while, the silence thunderously loud in her ears. “I feel as though I cannot escape.”

Regret floods her the moment those words escape her lips. Cold clouds begin to puff out of her mouth despite how warm everything outside feels; heat washes over her, and still she trembles and her teeth chatter in icy discomfort. Her hands clutch at her elbows and her fingers sink deep into her skin and she can already feel the bruises forming.

Jhenhwan’s strides do not falter even as Zhion herself feels herself slowing down. “W-wuh-wait!” Zhion calls out and she stops. Jhenhwan’s back is ramrod straight, a general on the battlefield, and she hunches over as she shuffles over to the warrior. “I- I’m sorry if my w-words were in-insensitive.”

She merely glances down at the trembling monk. Her eyes are kind, a smile on her face, and Zhion rubs her arms up and down as she tries to stand up next to Jhenhwan. The warrior smiles down at her still. Something in Zhion’s stomach flips. “Many do not escape.” Jhenhwan tells her, smiling still. Her heart is hammering against her chest, rattling her ribcage, and Zhion can’t stop her sudden heavy breathing. “Some, do.”

“What happens to the ones who do not escape?” she asks.

A hand rests itself upon Zhion’s shoulder, armoured fingers squeeze down, and Jhenhwan looks to her left. “You do not remember you had a sister, do you?”

It is as if the world has stopped. Her heart pounds in her ears, rushes in her veins, and her mouth falls open and snaps shut constantly. Her teeth clack against each other painfully and her tongue rises, useless, as the words sit on the tip of the muscle and yet.

Yet she cannot answer.

In her silence, Jhenhwan continues speaking, “if you go to your left, part that singular branch... then Shizhan awaits you. If you wish to return home, you will know immediately by the right spirits. You will come here, open the branches, and you shall part the way to the right and be back, immediately, to your home.”

Zhion’s breathing is getting heavier and heavier. The hand on her shoulder retreats and, despite her apprehension, Zhion steps forward and parts the indicated branch and finds herself in awe as she stares at the town of Shizhan but a kilometre away. She turns to thank Jhenhwan, but the warrior is already gone.

Red runes mark where the warrior has once stood and she tries not to think too much about it as she turns towards where Shizhan and flees from the forest, the warrior, and the magic that has frozen her bones.

**Author's Note:**

> [ Pillowfort. ](https://www.pillowfort.social/transistor) | [ Tumblr. ](https://transistories.tumblr.com/) | [Twitter.](https://twitter.com/EmptyHeartLover)


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